


The Devil You Know

by litra



Series: Supernatural: Chicago [2]
Category: Supernatural, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Demon Deals, Gen, Negotiations, Younger John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-04 06:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1077862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gentleman John Marcone first met Crowley, he was only Johnny, a man who took care of things, and the king of hell was only a well placed crossroads demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Crowley always knew when he had them hooked. By now he knew the look of someone over a barrel and knew just how to play them; after all he’d been doing it for centuries. In this case the young businessman had gotten in over his head. He’d made promises he couldn’t keep and squandered privileges that weren’t truly his. He’d fallen far and fast and Crawly had let his name slip to tempt the man into trying to set things right.

The young Christian Fletcher ( and Crowley did not miss the irony of his name ) thought he had chosen the meeting place because it was relatively secluded for the middle of a major metropolitan area, but the demon had in truth, planted the idea in his mind. Crowley was powerful enough now that he didn’t need to make his deals at crossroads, but the familiarity of ritual strengthened the pact.

“You’ll fix it. All of it.” The lad was trying to be intimidating but his hands were shaking.

Crowley smiled. “You’ve got to think bigger Mr. Fletcher. Fixing one little mistake is only the first step. By the end of the year you’ll be the rising star set to take over the top seat. Ten years of being top dog, and having all the perks that come with it. Now, do we have a deal?”

Christian’s eyes danced over the demon. He held out his still shaking hand.

“Ah, yes, I’m afraid my deals must be sealed with a kiss.”

Christian’s hand closed into a fist, still shaking. He wet his lips in a nervous little gesture but he didn’t step away.

Crowley knew he didn’t have a wealth of other options. All he needed was one last push. The demon stepped forward laying a hand on the young man’s shoulder and offering a serious look. “It’s part of the deal, but I understand if you’d rather handle things without my help.”

He stiffened under Crowley’s hand, then pressed forward as if he had to do it before he lost his courage. Crowley quickly controlled the kiss, angling in, reaching for the mans soul and branding it. He siphoned off just enough of the power there to fulfill the simple bargain and released his newest acquisition.  He set the mental clock for ten years, quietly pulling out his phone and pressing a few buttons to look like he was doing something, while Christian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Done.” Crowley said a moment later. “Tomorrow morning you’ll get a report saying how your mistake was actually a fortuitous insight that has put the company ahead of your competitors by at least a year.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Crowley slid his phone into his pocket.

Christian turned, hesitated, then started back to his car.

Crowley waited until he had pulled away before turning to address the man standing in the shadows of the overpasses supports. Crowley had known he was there from the beginning, dealing with something down by the water.

“Enjoy the show?”

The young man stepped from the shadows. He was maybe nineteen or twenty, over average height, with broad shoulders, and the kind of green eyes that were lavished over in bodice ripper romances. He had a subdued presence: never biggest or most threatening man in the room but the kind of man who people would stop and listen to unconsciously if he ever grew out of the kocky kid phase. The kind of man who inspired fear and loyalty in equal measure, the kind of man whose orders were followed without thought, because his people never doubted that the action he ordered was the right course of action.

Napoleon had had that kind of presence, Alexander, Washington, Hitler.  One glance at the kid’s soul was enough to tell crowley how valuable he could be. It was why he had let him watch.

“You knew I was here.” An acknowledgement rather than a question. Young, cocky, perfect.

The young man stepped forward to meet him, casually wiping the blood from a rather nice switchblade. he wasn’t showing off, or threatening, he was just aware of the blade in his hands and that awareness spread to those around him. Crowley knew the blade couldn’t hurt him and he still couldn’t help glancing at it.

“So, you planning on killing me now?”

Crowley’s eyebrows came up in a question. “Should I?”

The young man took in Crowley, from his ascent to his perfectly tailored suit. Then he shook his head. “You’re not that kind of man.”

“And what kind of man am I?”

Instead of answering the young man held out his hand. “I’m John.”

And yes, Crowley definitely likes this one. Dangerous maybe, He’d certainly have to be careful, but the potential there was staggering. He’d have to find a way to land this fish before Alister or Azazel caught wind of him.

“Crowley,” the demon took the offered hand, shaking it, then produced a business card from an inside pocket. He passed it over. John took the card and looked at it. Examining it more than really necessary. All it said was the name and a phone number, simple black text on standard cardstock.

“You’re a businessman.” John said, finally answering the question.

“Well, I’m glad we all have a grasp of the obvious.”

“What I can’t figure out.” John said, ignoring the snide remark. “Is what angle you’re playing.”

“Who says I’m playing an angle?”

“Everyone has an angle.”

“Oh, realy. and what might yours be?”

John looked him over again. It was minutes before he spoke again and then it wasn’t to answer the question. Instead he changed the subject.

“That man, I’ve seen him before. Fletcher, right?”

Crowley considered John. Unlike Christian Fletcher he wasn’t sure quite what hook to use. did he play the long game and hope that John didn’t find a better offer in the mean time? It was probably smarter than trying to tempt him into a deal too quickly. John would be on the watch for that. On the other hand wait too long and he was likely to end up in a trap of his own. Plenty of people tried to get the better of demons, the difference was that John might actually have the balls to pull it off.

“Quite possibly.” Crowley allowed. “He recently got himself into a bit of a mess. Asked for my help cleaning it up.”

“And that’s what you do, clean things up.”

“Sometimes, mostly I facilitate things.”

“Anything for the right price.”

“Exactly.” Crowley smiled and waited. This was the point when the target started thinking about all the things wanted, all the things they could never get on their own. Hopes, dreams, greed and lust. Other demons prefered pain and fear but Crowley had always found the carrot more useful than the stick.

“And ten years to enjoy it.”

Interesting, not many people said ten years like it was a short time frame. Not many people even stopped to think about the time limit. Most people couldn’t really visualize ten years. One year, sure, three or four, maybe, but ten, it was a number. And yet John had picked it out of the conversation he’d overheard.

“You can do a lot in ten years. With wealth, fame, power, you can do even more. Not to sound cliche but where do you see yourself in ten years? Not still doing this I imagine. Most people can spend ten years, hell, twenty, thirty years working towards something and most of them don’t even know what that something is. Even the ones who get it often die before they can appreciate it. Trust me, Mr. Fletcher has the better end of that deal. He at least doesn’t have to fight for it.” Crowley waved a hand at the city around him as he spoke. He was enjoying this more then he probably should have. Here he was supposedly making a deal and he was chatting up the target.

“Sounds like the easy way out to me.”

“The easy way is good for business. Most people don’t like the hard way. The hard way takes effort and has all those pesky risks.”

John studied him again. “Why are you telling me all this? Think you’ll be able to line up a deal with me next?”

“Why? Are you interested?”

John honestly considered the question. “Maybe.”

Crowley didn’t bother to hide his surprise. John shouldn’t have been that easy to swey. having him come straight out with it was out of character unless Crowley had seriously misjudged the other man.

“Not for my soul of course.”

“Really now? And what did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking, that I give you Chicago’s mob boss, and you leave the city to me.”

Crowley tipped his head back and laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. And he’s just going to hand over his soul is he, just like that?”

“Oh, I’m sure a businessman of your caliber could find a way to strike a deal.”

Crowley slid his hands into the pockets of his coat. If his smile could be called anything it would be ironic. “Why don’t you walk me through it.”

John’s returning smile was cold and sharp. “I make the introduction. You make a bargain with Vargasii. In exchange you run all deals by me before you do anything in my city. no deals with any of my people without my say so, and no deals that that would hurt me or my business.”

“He gets his ten years while you make sure you’re the one who’s next in line. Sounds like you’re asking me to pay to take out your biggest competitor. Chicago’s the city of mobsters, and you want me to willingly walk out?”

“Well, the deals only valid if I’m the one who’s running things, and even if I manage to pull it off, you’ll still have Vargasii.” John tipped his chin to one side. “You wouldn’t be cut out completely. I really don’t care how many deals men like Christian Fletcher make. I just don’t want any rivals trying to get a little help taking me down.”

“So the wager’s whether you can do it then. No, sorry still not really enough incentive on my end. maybe if you threw your soul into the bargain.”

“Not going to happen.”

Crowley half turned away, then turned back. “See here’s the thing. I’m actually a fairly good judge of character and I rarely underestimate people. It certainly wouldn’t be easy, but there is the chance you could pull it off. That’s a lot of lost business. On the other hand, if it could be turned into a beneficial arrangement.”

John crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing.

“Here’s my counter offer. You make the introduction, I make the deal. When the deadline rolls around either you take the city or you don’t. If you do, you come to me first, anything you need, enemies you want taken off the board, I’m the first one you call.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then Maybe you’ll change your mind about the easy way.”

John had one hand in the pocket where he had his knife and Crowley had to wonder if he was holding it for comfort or just because he was too focused to notice where his hands were.

He tilted his head back, then shook it. “No I’m not going to make deals with you just because I run Chicago.”

“You misunderstand.” Crawley waved a hand. “No one ever has to make a deal with me, I just want to know I’ll be in on the bidding process. Like I said, this city has made me a lot of business in the past.”

That hand was still in John’s pocket as he narrowed his eyes. Crowley waited. He had been alive for centuries, he knew when to strike and when to draw someone in.

“Do I have to kiss you too?”

“Ah, no. That’s only for souls.” Crowley held out a hand.

John looked at the hand for another long moment, then took it and shook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, I hope i managed to keep both these guys in character and everything. comments and critiques are welcome


	2. Chapter 2

There were times when John would regret that deal, and there were other times it had been the only reason he’d kept pushing, kept fighting and dealing. In the end the city was his, and the business card of a demon stayed tucked away in his wallet.

John had always believed in ends over means. It didn’t matter if Crowley was really a demon, only if he could actually do what he said he could. As a precaution John had kept an eye on Christian Fletcher and on Vargasii, though for the latter it was for other reasons as well. Mr. Fletcher got exactly what he had bargained for. If Crowley wasn’t using magic, then he would have to be extremely well connected, to pull off all the various coincidences that led to Mr. Fletcher’s rise.

John had never really made up his mind on the subject.

Then he heard a rumor that SI had hired a man who claimed to be a wizard and John had become aware of Harry Dresden.

John Marcone had quietly watched the so-called wizard for quite some time, before they had actually spoken. When Harry had tricked him into the soulgaze, John had quietly reorganized his worldview to accept the supernatural, including the idea that Crowley was exactly what he had appeared to be.

The night he realized just how close he’d come with that deal, he quietly got very drunk, and Hendrix had had to cancel his meetings the next morning. The only reason he’d kept his soul out of the deal, was because he didn’t like anyone having any sort of claim on him, real or not.

After that he had started studying up. There were people who had knowledge of these matters, the trick was finding them, and convincing them that doing so was in their best interests.

A lovely young woman who went by the name of Bela had been quite helpful, after Crowley had caught her dealing in his territory. She had been more than willing to have a chat once she had realized the position she was in.

Then there had been the situation with Macfinn, and it became clear that someone had upped the ante. It was no longer enough to know his enemy, he had to be able to face these beings on even footing.

Dresden had refused his offer of course. There had been one shining moment when John thought he would truly accept. That would have been the best option. Harry Dresden was the only person John had ever met who was as dedicated to the city as John himself was. They could have turned it into a fortress, a principality to rival any of the acorded nations. But no, his plans would have to be more cautious, slower to enact if just as inevitable.

For any such plan though he would need, a consultant, so he pulled out the old business card and made an appointment with an old acquaintance.


	3. Chapter 3

“Gentleman John” Crowley clapped his hands together, smiling that snake oil smile, as he was led into the offices of Chicago’s mob boss.

Marcone held up a hand, motioning for Crowley to take a seat, in one of the lush armchairs in front of his desk while he finished the call he was on.

Marcone hummed into the phone a few times while Crowley looked over the collection of decanters on the side table. Crowley raised his eyebrows in a question and Marcone gestured to him to go ahead.

“Yes. No, Thursday will set us behind, it needs to be done by Monday. I am aware. Good, see to it.” John hung up, and turn to his guest. “Sorry about that.”

“The luxurious life of the professional criminal.”

“Indeed.” John stood, moving to pour himself a drink as well. The two men took seats in opposite armchairs, facing each other.

“Well,” Crowley said when he was comfortable. “As nice as this I have to admit I’m curious as to the reason for your call.”

Marcone set his tumbler to one side. “Of course, we are both busy men. I am interested in an introduction. There has been rather more dealings that have to do with your side of things in the past few years and I’d like to be ready the next time they turn my way.”

“Dealings? Not other demons surely.”

“No of course not, that was part of our deal, but there were a pack of werewolves a few months back that I had to deal with, and before that a sorcerer with a grudge tried to step in on my territory.”

Crowley nodded. “I see, and you’re looking for what? A contractor?”

“Something like that. I had my eye on a wizard here in Chicago, but he has a streak of heroism.”

“Ah, I know the type. I’ve got a pair of boys with the same problem.”

Marcone lifted a hand as if asking what the world was coming to. “Unfortunately that leaves me without an expert on the subject.”

Crowley took a swallow from his tumbler. “I have several assets I’d be willing to lend out, people who owe me favors. were you interested in any specific talents?”

Marcone cut his hand through the air. “No, I already employ enough of that sort. I need someone who specializes in magical defence not torture, manipulation or black magic.”

Crowley pursed his lips. “If you say so. Personal bodyguard or general contractor?”

“More of the latter then the former, but they should be able to handle both.”

Crowley stood and turned to slowly pace around the room. “I do know several freelancers who are aware of . . . ” He waved a hand. “Unfortunately very few of them have the versatility of a wizard. If you were just interested in a bodyguard I’d suggest the hellhound, but I believe Kincade is currently under contract in any case. There are a few changelings I could mention but most of them have some other allegiance, and all the powerful witches and wizards are either part of the white council or on the run from them and I don’t think you’re looking for that level of attention.”

He paused, resting the hand not holding his drink on the back of the chair he’d formerly been sitting in. “The best fit is probably Monock Securities. They specialize more in combat, but they do hire out for more permanent contracts if the client is willing to pay.” Crowley pulled out his phone and pressed at several buttons before moving to the table that separated the two businessmen and sliding it across the surface.

Marcone picked up the phone and skimmed over the files.

“I’ll provide a full profile of course, but there will be a few.” Crowley paused, clearly choosing his words. “complications.”

Marcone set the phone down again, looking up at the demon with measuring green eyes.

“It’s like this.” Crowley explained. “The leader of Monoc Securities, he goes by the name Donar Vadderung, doesn’t much like my kind. something to do with an adopted son and a granddaughter who got a little too close to my, let’s say, lifestyle. If he heard you’d been referred by me he would most likely turn you away flat. And before you ask, they won’t do business with just anyone, especially if the person in question is just a mortal, no offence.”

John waved away the coment. “And you have a solution to this problem.”

“Possibly, the adopted son I mentioned, he’s a trickster. I do have a spell that could summon him but convincing him to help you, that’s another matter entirely.”

“And of course that would be up to me.”

“Well, you are the one looking for the introduction.”

John Marcone looked down into his drink and considered briefly. “What can you tell me about this trickster?”

“Loki, he follows the normal patterns. His tricks normally have some element of irony, or base humor, and his targets are normally people who he believes need to be taken down a peg or two. He does tend to take it a bit farther then say coyote or anansi. He’ll kill, not just humiliate, but the punishment always fits the crime at least to him. He also seems to have quite a sweet tooth, or so I’m told.”

“Loki.” John confirmed.

“Yes, problem?”

Marcone stood and moved over to the side table to refill his glass. “No, please continue.”

“Not much else to say. The norse mythology is mixed and he seems to have gone out of his way to obfuscate a lot of the information about himself. I’m personally more familiar with his daughter, Hela. Lovely girl as long as you don’t cross her, and her mother, well, what can you say about Kali. Not that I know them personally of course, I like my head where it is.”

John nodded, as if demigods and the spawn of legend were common topics of conversation for him. He takes a drink, then refills Crowley’s glass when the demon holds it out.

“And the price?” John finally asks when they’ve both sat back down.

“Well it is a very rare spell.”

“But it’s only a spell. I asked for an introduction and all you can give me is a way to contact someone who might help me if I can convince him to.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley spun his glass between his fingers. “Not a soul then. Did you have something else in mind?”

“Well I have acquired a certain Item that I think you’ll be interested in, but the price is quite a bit higher than what you’re offering.”

“Oh, and what might that be?”

John leaned over enough to press the intercom button on his desk. “Hendrix, if you could bring in the item.”

“Yes sir.” Came the scratchy reply. The two businessmen sat in silence for a few minutes until Marchone’s bodyguard finally entered. He was carrying a thick attache case. The kind that was used to transport delicate equipment rather than papers or other documents. He carefully set the case down in front of Marcone and moved to stand behind his employers chair.

“A few months ago there was an incident not far from Chicago. Some of my people were doing business with the local hands and there was a disagreement about payment.”

“A shame.”

“Yes, well, no one died.”

“Ahh, no harm done then.”

John let a hint of a smile show on his lips. “Two men were fatally shot.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow, “Really? That sounds like a story worth hearing?”

“For a period of a few weeks no one died, even those who were terminally ill. One of the local hands I mentioned said he was hired by a man who talked about killing the grim reaper. I’m afraid by the end he wasn’t making much sense. He claimed to have been possessed, came to me for protection and paid for it with this.” Marcone carefully opened the case and turned it so that Crowley could see what lay on the padding inside.

It was a blade, curved and rusted from long years. A hand scythe of simple iron, with a wooden handle. Despite it’s mundane appearance it sent a chill through the room, along with the smell of damp earth, and old still water. Crowley went absolutely still in his seat.

“That is --”

“I believe so.” John tuned the case and closed it again, leaving it on the table once the feeling started to fade away. “Under other circumstances, I would keep such an Item, but I’m not yet in a position where I could defend myself from those who would come to steal it.”

Crowley looked up at his host and emptied his glass.

“In exchange for the scythe, I take the spell and you arrange for the shroud of Turin to come into my possession.”

Crowley looked down at his empty glass, spinning it between his empty fingers. He considered for several long moments, then nodded. “A fair bargain.”

The demon stood, setting his glass down on the table, and offered his hand. John Morcone stood to take it.

“A pleasure doing business with you, as always.” Crowley bent to take up the case. “I’ll have someone stop off in the morning with all the paperwork.”

John nodded, “Yes that will be fine.”

The demon nodded to the silent Hendrix and turned to leave with his newest acquisition. Hendrix waited until they heard the sound of the elevator before he spoke.

“You sure that was wise, giving it to him.”

John moved back to his desk, looking over the files he still had to deal with. “Everything has it’s price.”

Hendrix nodded and left him to it.

**Author's Note:**

> At this point I'm not going to add to this... feel free to take the idea and run with it.


End file.
